Skyfall
by Thoughts in Chaos
Summary: It's 2347 & New York is home to the greatest thief in history; The Grey Fox. When a new discovery of a Sapphire Dragon is on display at the museum Interpol agent John Cena uses it in an attempt to catch the elusive burglar, but when the artefact turns out to be a piece in a larger puzzle for something only known as the Skyfall things spiral out of control. OC, Cena, Ryder, Sheamus
1. Chapter 1

_Hey all, here we are with a brand new plot bunny!_

_In a change of personal pace, I've decided to have Cena as one of the main characters. Out of everyone on the roster he just has that certain feel/look for what I hope will be an enjoyable, good old fashion action story (Again how I wish for an actual 'action' category to list stories under). Also it's a little short, mainly as a test to see how well it'll be received. I've learned well enough by now that AU stories can be rather hit and miss, but it's what I seem to 'specialise' at here, so to speak. Much more fun the the well worn path of WWE-verse romance (Not that it's an entirely bad thing). All your favourites doing different things!_

_To my wonderful regulars who follow me, I haven't forgotten about my other fics, some of them are just in tough spots right now and I want to be careful so they don't get Mary Sued into oblivion. To those reading my stuff for the first time welcome aboard and hope you enjoy the ride!_

_Peace!_

* * *

_'Artefacts that had recently been unearthed in the discovery of a long forgotten Chinese Imperial dynasty will be on display at The Museum of Natural History in New York as the exhibition starts a national tour of the country. _

_The centrepiece of the exhibition is the Sapphire Dragon. It had been reported that the statuette is carved from the largest gem of it's kind in existence, standing at almost half a foot in height and four inches wide. The sapphire's value, even if it was in it's raw and uncut state is estimated in the millions. The fact that it's such a priceless artifact potentially puts that number even higher. With this in mind security is on high alert, from the museum's own security, local police and reports to suggest involvement from an Interpol team under the direction of commander John Cena will be doing their part to keep this new part of Chinese history safe. _

_In this reporter's opinion they will all have to be at their best as rumours suggest that the Grey Fox, a world renowned master thief, has their eyes set on this particular prize. The Grey Fox has been responsible for the theft of several of the most historical, notable pieces of art and relics in history, Leonardo's Mona Lisa and Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night being the Fox's most famous feats of thievery. When questioned about any attempts that Grey Fox may make to acquire the Sapphire Dragon Commander Cena had this to say.'_

"_While Grey Fox is certainly a formidable opponent and someone we at Interpol are very serious about apprehending, the precautions that we have taken while working with the local police departments are something that would even give the Fox second thoughts before attempting anything."_

_'Despite this, New York is proud to be the first to host the exhibition's world tour that begins this Saturday with the museum doors open at nine am. It will be a wonderful opportunity to see a slice of forgotten history and the story behind it._

_This is Nikki Bella for Channel Four news.'_

With a click of the remote the holo-screen fell silent, the Grey Fox unable to hide a mischievous smirk at the veiled challenge that the Interpol Commander had just issued. How could the most famous thief in the world refuse such an invitation to once again outwit a most worthy opponent?

Getting out of the comfortable leather lounge chair the Fox wandered through the expansive penthouse, moving silently across the hardwood floors of the living room and into an antiquated style den. Old books and tomes lined the walls from floor to ceiling, a subtle display of the owner's money and power in this golden age of technology it certainly was not. With a cursory glance out the window and onto the street below the thief was satisfied with the scene under the cloud filled night. For the city that never sleeps it was about as quiet as things got in the Big Apple. Taking a seat at the desk that commanded a full view of the room another holo-screen sprang to life as Grey Fox's gloves glowed with what looked like circuitry as they danced over the touch pad built into the desk's surface. Expert fingers danced as information streamed rapidly down the screen and illuminated in the Fox's eyes with a glow. Once satisfied the connection was broken and it was time for the criminal to make an exit, the owner of the establishment would be back from a show on Broadway in mere minutes.

Taking one last look around the decidedly masculine office Grey Fox couldn't help it as a few titles caught the thief's ever evaluating eye. Among the possessions the moonlighter had a acquired over the years the one thing that was prized above all else was books. You didn't need a power source to run them nor potential viruses to corrupt them and most of all, like everything else the Fox pilfered, books were history. They were something to be read and cherished, not simply stuffed on a bookshelf so some big wig in a hideously garish power suit could show off to slightly less wealthy big wigs who had even less fashion sense.

Grey Fox's inner child all but squealed in delight at a first edition of the complete works of Roald Dahl and knew then and there that the books just had to be rescued from their life of being nothing more than a simple trophy. A pack slid from a matte black clad shoulder and with great care the treasures were safely tucked away inside. Once it was closed up a familiar soft hiss came from the pack, anything inside was now protected by an airtight seal. Crossing the penthouse the home security system reactivated as soon as the door shut.

John Layfield strolled into the lobby of the apartment building that his luxurious home was a part of. As he approached the gilded elevators the one on his left opened and a figure shrouded in a floor length trench coat appeared, face hidden deep within a heavy cowl. He shook his head as they passed each other, he'd never understand these retro kids who seemed to have their heads stuck in the past. As he turned to push the button for his floor something didn't feel quite right, he'd never actually seen anyone in the building dress like that before and he pretty much had tabs on everyone else who lived there. His eyes widened after a quick sweep of his pockets, his credit chit was gone! Head snapping up he eyed the figure perched on top of a speed cycle, the blue tinted reflective visor of the donned helmet looking right at him. With a casual salute his way the engine then came to life with a powerful whine before speeding off high into the skylanes as the businessman futilely ran back, screaming for security as he did so.

* * *

"_You cut it a little close tonight."_

"I had it under control, I'd timed the distance enough times to know the absolute minimum of when he'd come back."

"_Still, I don't like it. You're getting paid to get the job done, not fuel your need for an adrenaline rush."_ The small hologram of the Grey Fox's fence looked decidedly unamused.

The thief simply scoffed, "I hardly call a routine house call an 'adrenaline rush'. You need to relax, maybe go down to _The Parlour_ and see that cute blond you've had your eye on forever."

He ignored the smirk as well as the innuendo, pressing on with business. _"I take it you got everything."_

"Every last byte." The Fox grinned and began the file transfer, "Plus a little bonus for my own collection."

"Oh?" The fence replied, hardly surprised. "What was it this time?"

Opening the pack that sat on the desk the burglar carefully pulled out the prized haul, holding up the apparent personal favourite up to the hologram. "Every single book and collection of stories he ever wrote, all here in their entireties."

It was the fence's turn to smile as he shook his head, holographic self turning as his partner crossed the room and a fake panel opened at the approach that led into a hidden room before it flickered out. As the Fox found the right space for the latest acquisition his image sprung up on a pedestal nearby. _"I need to talk to you about the museum exhibition."_

"You're not going to talk me out of it." Eyes glittered at the thought of the upcoming tour of new Artefacts and its prized centrepiece, "Especially after the news cast tonight."

Momentarily distracted by a beep on his end the fence ended the data transfer of business secrets they had been contacted to 'liberate', he locked it away in a custom programmed e-vault._ "Even you are going to find that much security hard, if not impossible. Don't be impulsive."_

Turning to the figure of light, the genuine concern staring back belied the stern warnings, the Fox couldn't help the soft expression that reached lavender tinted eyes. "I promise you, Sheamus, I'm not going to get caught. I'm to good for that." The cheeky grin returned, pulling back from the rare warm and fuzzy moment, "Trust me."

He sighed, hands held up in a sign of resignation. Grey Fox was the best in the world in the art of theft and they had had no shortage of offers to procure the Sapphire Dragon. The rate it was going now with this one job they could live like royalty for the rest of their lives. _"God, I hate it when you say that..."_

With a soft chuckle the Grey Fox ended the call and looked around the personal vault of priceless treasures. Each held a very large significant fiscal value, but to the thief the sentimental value every object held was immeasurable. Contentment washed over the mischievous rogue, satisfied that everything was in its perfect place before leaving the vault and the fake wall clicked into place seamlessly. The biggest job of the burglar's career was ahead, a plan had to be formed before launching the Grey Fox into history itself as the greatest thief who ever lived.


	2. Chapter 2

_Seeing as this was fun enough to continue I figured I'd roll with it. Apologies in advance for any errors in the Spanish that appears further down for anyone who speaks it, blame the google translator if it's wrong. My excuse and I'm sticking to it at any rate..._

* * *

John Cena looked around at the room filled with up to the second footage of the new exhibit with a frown. He knew that the Sapphire Dragon was to much for Grey Fox to resist and had honestly half expected an attempt made on the statue the first night, but this was apparently not the case. Reports had come the night of the news announcement that a burglary had taken place at a high rise in Manhattan and one Mr John Layfield had a lot of files pertaining to several high end business deals stolen, along with a collection of books as well as a substantial credit chit right off his person. With the mention of the rare collection that had been in Mr Layfield's personal library the Interpol agent just _knew_ it was his thief. When asked for a description all he could give was a recollection of a cowled trench coat clad person and a metallic blue speed cycle.

Leaving the monitor station He took his time as he walked through the museum, an experienced eye evaluating the security measures that had taken a team effort across several branches of law enforcement to establish and maintain. His gaze went from the security to the public who were milling about admiring the many pieces- Young couples, old couples, families, groups of friends and more than one guided tour group were everywhere. Any one of them could be his target and he wouldn't have a clue. He couldn't help but wonder if it was enough, the things the Fox managed to get past and steal with no apparent problems was almost as if the thief was a ghost. He had been on the trail for three years now and was no closer than when he had started, he didn't even know if Grey Fox was a man or woman.

The person who was the Fox was an enigma in itself, for decades infamous feats of daring burglary had been pulled off at certain points in time, the MO of the crimes all pointing to the same criminal behind it. But there was no physical way for it to even be the same person. Sure medical advances had come so far in leaps and bounds, people were living even longer and healthier lives than at any other point in human history, but even that couldn't account for it being the one person all this time. They'd easily be one hundred and fifty years old by now!

With a sigh he found himself drawn to the centrepiece of the whole show, it's dark blue surface flawless and sparkled under the lights. How something made so long a go could be so perfectly cut was beyond him, but there was no doubt it was a most spectacular piece of art even if it wasn't carved from a precious gem. He could probably have enjoyed it more if the idea of having it stolen while under his watch didn't weigh so heavily down on him, despite his confident declaration to the media yesterday. He knew that if the Fox got past everything they had laid out and made off with the prize he'd be out of a job, there was _a lot_ of money in protecting this thing...

"It's beautiful, isn't it."

The international cop was broken out of his thoughts by a voice beside him. A woman, her unbound hair a lustrous dark red with the most peculiar lavender eyes looked from the sinuous, twisting carved creature to him and smiled. The style of her simple cornflower blue mini dress, matching boots and the half a dozen or so bracelets made from everything from braided leather and beads, painted wood and copper screamed retro. Beyond retro even. But it seemed to suit her somehow, like she had stepped right out of the 1970's and decided to pay the twenty fourth century a visit.

With a little jolt he realised he had been staring and still hadn't answered, "Certainly is." He replied, fairly certain he wasn't referring to the glorified rock on display. She didn't seem to notice as her attention was back on the figurine, studying it intently. _What earthly man could compete with a rock that big_, he thought with mild amusement to himself as John's attention shifted back to the dragon as well. _Perhaps a man who could afford to buy a rock that size_.

A distinctly Irish brogue sounded from behind the pair, "There you are." He said with a smile as he approached the woman, "I wondered where you had gotten to." His arm casually wrapped itself around his companion's shoulders before seemingly noticing the agent, "Hey, you're that fella who was on the news last night, aren't you?" He asked as he acknowledged John's presence. "The one from Interpol."

"That's right."

"You really think that a burglar can get to this thing?"

While not oppressive during the museum's opening hours, the measures they had taken still had a certain presence. "We not taking any chances with it. Grey Fox, or anyone else for that matter, would have to be insane to try and break in."

"Well, they'd be a mad yoke if they tried, that's for sure." The tourist declared and the ghost of a smirk from the woman next to him flashed briefly. Deciding it was time to beat feet Sheamus dipped the flat cap he sported in farewell, "Good luck with your endeavours, fella, hope it all works out."

John watched as the couple walked off before giving the troublesome idol one last glance and went to finish his rounds before lunch. He'd be damned if anyone so much as sneezed on the thing under his watch...

* * *

"You... you're a nutcase, d'you know that?"

"Yes, so you you keep telling me."

"Actually talkin' to the guy..." Sheamus muttered as he started up the car and pulled out into the street. He was warned that she was an adrenaline junkie when the man who was the Grey Fox before her first introduced them, every Fox was to some degree, but even he would surely have to have some issues with what just happened.

As she stared into a small compact mirror it was almost as if she knew who he was thinking of. "I need to see Eddie, there's just something about that statue that seemed … off." She mentioned casually, the lavender reflection of her eyes seemed to almost spark before changing to a bright green.

Sheamus quirked a brow at the odd statement. "Off how?" He asked, "You think it's a fake?"

"No, nothing like that." She replied with a shake of her head, the red locks darkening into black and tied it back into a high pony tail. "It's definitely real but looks as if it were meant to be part of a pair perhaps, or something like that. It just looks as if it's missing something."

He focused back on the road, ascending into the sky-lane that would take them out of Manhattan and toward Staten Island. When the car finally landed her appearance had changed completely; the mini dress now morphed into something more in line with the current trend, something ordinary and nondescript. She had to admit, the deal she had made to procure a prototype material that could change it's size, shape and even colours had come in handy. Instead of taking the usual fee for a job like this the object had been far more interesting, opting to have some of it made for her own use instead. It was by far one of the best deals they had ever made.

The vehicle automatically locking behind them as they walked up a short flight of steps and hit the button of the modest home. A screen blinked into life revealing the face of a older Hispanic man, "Hola- Mamacita!" He beamed as he recognised his visitors and buzzed them through, "¡adelante! ¡adelante!"

Eddie Guerrero greeted his guests then led them up the hallway and into the open kitchen, "Vickie, Sheamus and our little zorrito are here!" He announced along the way. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged and general small talk ensued over coffee and cake. "So what brings you back home?" He asked the current Fox as Sheamus and Vickie ended up in their usual conversation comparing notes over what it was like being a fence for the Grey Fox. "Is it about that glorified rock over at the museum?"

The pair of thieves excused themselves and walked to the back of the house, "Something like that." She replied as they entered Eddie's own private sanctum where he kept all the treasures he had procured before he passed the mantle of Grey Fox to her. "I need you to look at something for me."

"Alright, show me what you have, Zorrito." Eddie said as she carefully pried one of the contact lenses from her eyes, revealing its natural colour of a dark blue. Placing it on a sterile piece of curved glass which lit up softly at the contact and began downloading the images locked away within the high-tech eye piece. A nearby holo-screen came to life with the images the lens camera had taken while she had studied the artefact. It didn't take long for the former Fox to see the same thing his protégé had spotted. "Interesting..." He murmured to himself, picking out one particular shot and enlarging it with a casual wave of his hand. "The fore-claws here look like they're supposed to be holding something. Supporting it perhaps. With the enhancement you can see some wear from the said object."

"That's what I was thinking to." She nodded, "Also, that's not a Chinese dragon."

"How can you tell?"

His former pupil went on to elaborate when he looked at her expectantly. "The number of claws it has. Chinese dragons have five toes on each foot, this one only has three. Therefore it's not Chinese, it's Japanese." Retrieving the contact lens and putting it back in she leaned against a wall as the image in front of them rotated at a steady pace, "Which begs the question, what was a Japanese figurine doing buried with a bunch of Chinese history?" She began to slowly pace the length of the small room as she mulled it over, "A trophy from battle? Perhaps, but I doubt it. If that were the case the dragon's companion piece would've been with it. My guess it had been separated on purpose, but why?"

"That's what I've always liked about you." Eddie grinned affectionately, "You always know when the obvious answer is bullshit."

She smiled back at the man who had given her a life she never thought possible from the one she had been destined for. This was all so far removed from what life could have been like trapped either in government care or on the street where he had originally found her. "Well I was taught by the best."

Before they could continue any further over any possible reasons as to why this intriguing discovery could have come about, a very unamused Vickie with Sheamus in tow stood at the threshold of her husband's hidey hole that was tucked away in their basement. "Please tell me that you didn't approach that Interpol agent while you were in the middle of a daytime case."

"Alright, I didn't approach the Interpol agent while I was casing the museum today." When the joke didn't go over so well she looked from one Guerrero to the other, "Well I didn't. If you want to get technical he approached me, or the rock rather."

"Zorrito..." The tone in Eddie's voice let her know that he wasn't impressed. "This will be the biggest job of your life and perhaps the largest part of the Grey Fox legacy we've been a part of in its history. Don't. Get. Cocky."

"I have it under control." She assured them both, "I'm not going to screw this up. I know how big the score on this one is."

All four of them looked at the various images that swirled around Eddie's work space before they disappeared as he erased them. "You know I trust you, I just don't want to see anything go wrong because of something that could've been avoided."

Again, she couldn't help but smile at the concern from the two people who were like her parents, "I promise you both, I'm not going to get caught. I'm the best in the business and that wont change now."

* * *

_For years I've wanted to put Eddie in something but could never quite find the right part. Originally he was going to have Sheamus' place, but when I had an idea that the Grey Fox could have it's own legend (and perhaps even it's own story some day to explore said legend) this role just seemed like a much better fit. Also when it gets down to it, I just really miss watching 'Latino Heat' lying, cheating and stealing every week. We miss you, Eddie, you truly are one of the all time greats._

_OK folks, you know what to do from here._

_Peace!_


	3. Chapter 3

As the exhibit got closer and closer to the time for them to pack up and move on to the next city Cena found himself getting more and more anxious. There had been no sign at all that the Grey Fox had any interest whatsoever in the Sapphire Dragon but he knew nothing could be further from the truth. The Fox was, if nothing else, a sucker for grabbing headlines to rub their success in the face of authority. Not stealing the thing before it left New York was simply not an option.

The more days passed the more tense John got, riding everyone under his command like a major hardass. Normally his superiors would've accepted it, John was a good cop and had gotten results on most his previous assignments. But when you have so many of the operatives making complaints he was forced into taking a night off while Zack Ryder, an agent a few years younger but had proven himself capable more than once, took John's evening shift. This left him with an unexpected free night and he had no idea what to do with himself. He idly strolled through Manhattan, wondering what to do when he remembered a place that Ryder had recommended to him. Seeing as New York was the younger cop's home town he thought it couldn't at least hurt to check the place out, so hailing a cab he climbed in and gave the driver the address.

The club simply known as The Parlour was packed, a sea of bodies moving like a giant pulsing being on the dance floor as others were dotted around it's edges sprawled out in the comfortable booths and propped up along the bar. Making a beeline for a space that opened up when two men moved out to the floor he managed to get the attention of the barmaid and ordered a beer, "First time here?" She asked him over the music as he continued to look around the place.

"How did you know?"

She simply smiled coyly at him, "You don't really look like the type who's into a place like this."

He cocked a curious brow in response, "Oh? What do I look like then?"

She couldn't help but giggle, brushing a stray lock of blond hair out of her face. "To be honest, you look like a cop."

He leaned back on the bar and couldn't help his own small smile as a chuckle escaped him. "Yeah, well, maybe that's because I am." He looked back at her, blond hair taking on the shades of the coloured lights that flashed and flared to the music, "Is it going to be a problem?"

"Honey, so long as everyone pays for their drinks and doesn't cause trouble for big Mark over there, you can be whatever you want."

"Big Mark?"

A finely manicured nail pointed across to the other side of the club where a huge black man stood watch over the floor, "Mark Henry, he's the head of security." With that she excused herself and left him, off to serve another customer.

Beer in hand John once again turned to observe the people on the dance floor to watch the party goers. The woman had been right, normally he wouldn't have come into a place like this, his usual haunts being more of your typical cop bars, but normally he wouldn't have had an unexpected night off either. Most of the crowd around him were a few years younger than he was, possibly a crowd Zack would have felt right at home with. He wondered what he was even doing here when he spotted a familiar face across the way. Body moving with the rest of the crowd John watched intently before she seemed to sense someone watching her. Loose red curls partially obscured her face as she turned to catch him staring. Weaving through the masses she approached him, took his beer out of his hand and placed it on the bar before leading him towards the dance floor.

Sheamus, who was at the other end flirting with the barmaid, caught sight of the pair and groaned, covering his face with his palm as he did so. "Something wrong, babe?" The woman behind the counter asked at the sudden shift in his mood. She always enjoyed the attention the big Irishman gave her, though why he didn't do anything more than simple flirting she couldn't figure out.

He recovered quickly from the unintentional slip, "Nothin' important, just something I suddenly remembered." He replied before turning the charm back on, "But it's nothing that can't wait until tomorrow."

A smile lit up her face as he winked at her before pouring him another Guinness and hurrying off to serve someone else. When she was gone he looked across the floor, still not quite believing what he was seeing, the Fox had her arms lazily draped across the broad shoulders of the man who was intent on throwing her in prison for the rest of her life. "God dammit, girl." He muttered to himself as they made brief eye contact and she simply smirked impishly at him. "I hope you know what the hell you're doing..."

John was good at many things but dancing was certainly not one of them, yet somehow his impromptu partner's grace seemed to make it bearable as she managed to avoid his two left feet without any obvious effort. Catching her fading grin he looked over his shoulder quizzically, spotting the unamused Sheamus, "Making the boyfriend jealous?"

She giggled at both the idea and the unsure look on her dance partner's face, "We're not an item, just friends." She replied, "He just gets a little overprotective at times. Besides, he's been making eyes at Natalya over there for a month or two now."

The next track held a slower tempo than the previous one, causing some people who were partner-less to retreat to the safety of the various booths and bars. She seemed to have no inclination to leave, with her arms still wrapped casually around his neck while wearing that mischievous smile he was beginning to think was a trademark characteristic. He could feel the warmth of the exposed skin of her toned stomach when his hands came to rest around her hips as his confidence that he wouldn't stomp her toes into oblivion grew, allowing him to relax and feel more at ease. As they inched closer together he could smell her fragrance of wild jasmine that toyed playfully with his sense of smell. "Who?"

"The barmaid. He really needs to make a move on her before someone else does." She replied, feeling the slight shiver that ran through him as her soft fingers caressed a sensitive spot on the back of his neck. The thrill of being this close to the man trying to catch her was almost intoxicating. "So... taking a night off from playing guard dog, are you?"

"It was insistent."

"By who?"

"Everyone." The exasperated look on his face caused her to laugh again, he decided he liked the sound and found her good mood infectious. "I've been riding them all hard, so I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise really."

How long they stayed out on the floor he had no idea and truth be told it had been a long time since had done anything like this. With each assignment demanding so much from him, and being the workaholic he was, times like this seemed few and far between. Even more so since the disastrous end to his marriage some twelve months before hand. After a while the pair retreated to the upstairs lounge where the noise of the club seemed more muted and the atmosphere relaxed. They talked over a number of things and he couldn't remember the last time he had such an easy, free flowing conversation with anyone outside of work. "So what is it you do for a living, Miss..?"

"Carmen." She replied with the first name that came to mind, "I'm an antiques dealer. I also like to dabble a little as an amateur historian."

"Really?" It surprised him for some reason, whenever he thought of a job like that his mind always conjured up middle age men in suits scouring auctions and such in small towns. "Why antiques? History?"

Her smile was genuine, unlike the name she had just given him. Taking a sip of the red wine she had Carmen then plunged headlong into her answer. "It's all part of history, each item has it's own story to tell about the past. I think it's important to always remember history because if we don't people are doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again. By clearly recording events we know what mistakes were made and how to avoid any of the same pitfalls that may occur in the future." She leaned back into the soft fabric of the club chair, one leg crossing over the other. "As for the antiques part, well, I just really like old things. They seem to have character about them, kind of like how people do as they go through experiencing life. Inanimate objects just last longer then we do, so they have more of a story to tell, if you know how to read it."

He found himself staring again, wondering if she was even aware of the sensual grace she moved with in even the most smallest of motions. Abruptly his mind fell into the gutter, wondering what it would be like to have this beautiful woman underneath him as he made her scream his name. It seemed like forever since the last time he got laid... John took a swig of his beer and shifted in his seat before moving the conversation along, trying hard not to focus on the dirty thoughts that chased each other through is mind. "Is that what you were trying to do to the dragon? You were staring at it pretty intently."

"I wish I could, that thing must be a few thousand years old at least. I can only imagine what it would've been like to first discover it." Her eyes had fallen into shadow under the soft lighting of the lounge as she smirked, the Interpol agent's appreciation for her figure not going unnoticed. "But a girl can dream. I doubt anyone is going to get close enough to it any way, not with all the security you have set up."

"If there's one thing I've learned, it's never to underestimate the Grey Fox." He answered.

"Really? I think you're going whoever it is way to much credit." She insisted, "You have that thing locked up tighter than Fort Knox."

"It has to be, five years a go the Fox broke into Fort Knox."

She took a sip of her drink in an effort not to grin, the Fort Knox job had been done more on a dare than anything else. Sheamus had bet her she couldn't crack the security codes and it was then he learned just how much she loved the thrill of the proverbial hunt when she had taken him up on the challenge. "Any other inside thoughts or tips on just who or what this mystery person is?"

"I've always thought that it has to be more than one person. With all the sorts of things that have been stolen for over a century now, while there are minute variations, the core of the MO is still the same. I personally have come to believe that the 'Grey Fox' is actually a title that has been handed down over the years, like one of them will go out and find an apprentice to carry on the work once whoever it is has decided they want to retire."

"But how can you be absolutely sure?"

"I can't, all I can do is trust the evidence and my instincts." He replied, "It can't be any more ludicrous than the story that it's actually some sort of android or something like that."

"A rebel robot with a penchant for stealing shiny objects." Carmen chuckled, "Sounds like something from a Saturday morning kiddie holo-vid. You're right, it doesn't sound any less silly." Before she could dissect any more knowledge of just how much he had pieced together from what little information Interpol had on her existence a thin, decorative bracelet around her right wrist lit up. She sighed and gave him an apologetic look, "Alas my play time is over. I have an early start tomorrow so I should get going if I'm to get out of bed without feeling like a zombie."

John couldn't hide his disappointment, he had actually had a far more pleasant time than he had originally anticipated and he had Carmen to thank for it. Showing that chivalry was not dead yet he walked her out of the club and stayed with her until they managed to hail a cab. "Listen." He began a little awkwardly as she opened the back passenger door, "I know this is going to be a bit random... But I'd really like to see you again."

Her eyes lit up with her smile, "I'd like that. How about next Saturday at nine o'clock? There's this fantastic little Italian place called 'Santino's' that I've been wanting to try for months."

"Nine o'clock Saturday it is."

"Excellent, I'll see you there."

Not thinking to much about it she gave him a quick kiss, causing him to break out in a goofy grin of his own. As the AI piloted taxi pulled out onto the street the Fox setted back with a smug smile that would do the Cheshire Cat proud. The smitten Interpol Commander had just given her the opening she needed to finally make her move on the Sapphire Dragon. _Oh how sweet life is_, she thought gleefully to herself, not knowing what danger she was about to face for the prize...


	4. Chapter 4

Zack Ryder spent the morning discreetly observing the Commander when he came into work the next day, something was different. Sanding at ease with his arms behind is back, Zack's right thumb absently traced over the small tattoo of three black claws on his inside of his left wrist as he wondered what it was. Eventually his curiosity got the better of him, making him break down and to find out. "Taking the night off wasn't so bad after all, huh?"

John had to grin slightly at the younger man, he hadn't been able to get Carmen out of his head since. "I guess not."

When it seemed like the CO was going to leave it at that Zack prodded him further, he simply just had to know what had Cena in such an unusually good mood. "Well, you going to spill the beans or not?"

He shook his head and chuckled as he checked his watch, in some ways Ryder was worse than a gossiping circle of teenage girls. Motioning to his lieutenant they headed toward the door, "Time for lunch. McIntyre, you have the watch while we're out." The Scotsman nodded and took up the command post in the surveillance room as the other two left for a small cafè that was opposite the museum.

While the outside held the same steel and glass mask as all the other buildings around it, the inside was brightly coloured in reds and whites as it imitated a classic American diner from the mid twentieth century. Sitting down in a booth, a small hologram of a 1950's waitress popped up from a small disk that was built into the centre of the table and she extended her hand from which the menu appeared. Once they ordered she blinked out, a small digital timer counting down the approximate time until they would get their food. "So," Zack started as a small serving drone glided over and deposited their coffee, "I take it you actually went and checked out The Parlour?"

"I did." John replied, stirring some cream into his coffee. He knew the bot could've done it, but they never seemed to get it quite right he found.

"How was it?" He watched as Cena didn't answer but was unable to stop the grin that spread across his face before it finally clicked. "You met someone! About time you did the dirty and got it out of your system."

John refrained from the urge of wanting to give the exuberant younger man a slap upside the head. "You're so damn crass at times, Ryder." He commented as he sipped at his brew, "Yes, I did meet someone. No, I didn't simply jump her on the spot. We're actually going out to dinner this Saturday. Some place called Santino's."

"Wait, _the_ Santino's? Up on Mulberry Street in Little Italy?"

"Are there any other restaurants in New York called Santino's?"

"Bro, you have _no_ idea how popular that place is." Zack explained, "It's that good that you have to book a table at least two months in advance. In the entire place there's probably only two, maybe three tables on permanent reserve for certain people with ridiculously deep pockets. Who in the hell did you meet?"

"Told me her name was Carmen." He replied, "I had actually seen her the other day the the expedition. It was rather surprising when she popped up again at that club. What are the odds of that actually happening?"

Zack acknowledged it with a non-committal noise as he sat back a little in the chair and thought it all over, the next few minutes passed in companionable silence. He knew some part of the commander was still irked at having being forced into having at least one day off from ongoing surveillance duties, but it would give Zack the opportunity to show his superiors that he was capable of getting the job that they had tasked him with done. Again he began tracing the inked skin that resided on his wrist as he thought, a slow smirk spreading as John picked up a small complimentary pad and read today's published news as they waited for their food. It wasn't long now before he could finally make the move he'd been waiting years for...

* * *

"See, I told you to trust me."

"_No need to rub it in, smart arse."_

"But it's to much fun not to."

"_Aren't you at the museum yet?"_

"Sounding a little testy there." She couldn't help but tease her partner over the secure line as she approached the monolithic building that held her prize. After weeks of planning tonight was the night that the Sapphire Dragon would be the crown jewel among the many feats of the Grey Fox's thievery, the man in charge of guarding it unwittingly giving her the opening she had sought. Without the commander around to ride them like an army general the tense energy that ran through them all had diminished somewhat and hopefully lulling them more towards a false sense of security. It did help that some of them personally didn't believe in the Grey Fox's existence at all, but weren't dumb enough to voice it to Cena.

Right now the man should be waiting patiently at the table she had booked at _Santino's,_ only to have a message delivered to him from 'Carmen', citing that a family emergency had arisen and she regrettably couldn't make it. Finding out which of the reserved tables were not going to be used tonight and thusly masquerading as the daughter of the industrious business mogul who owned it hadn't been easy, but in the end the desired decoy would be worth it.

The long coat she wore covered the 'chameleon suit' underneath, pulling up the hood a little more when she came into view of the surveillance camera that covered the service entrance, her contacts and the suit itself fooling the finger print and eye scanners, believing she was nothing more than a simple night shift custodian. "I'm in." She murmured while stepping over the threshold and out of the colder weather outside, stepping into the first deep shadow she saw. Swallowed up by the darkness she shrugged off the coat and ran a finger over a small button on the inside of it, almost instantly it began shrinking up like it had been placed in one of those old primitive vacuum bags that were once used for linen and clothes storage. When it was done she slid a small pack from her back and stowed the it away before pulling something else out. Sliding on a high tech visor, its edges ending in long, curving tapered tips, a matte grey, almost the same colour as dark storm clouds, crept over her head partially wrapped itself around the object and concealed the rest of her exposed face. "Lets go make some money."

Sheamus sat back and watched as a holo-screen flickered to life, its first person heads up display a direct feed from the Fox's headgear. Whatever she saw he could now also witness, as well as monitoring her vital signs and those within the visor's sight. The elegant 'ears' also served a purpose; it not only enhanced her own hearing but recorded every little sound it picked up. It was essentially like having two eyes and ears for the price of one. "Stream is up and running... no complications. All green on this end."

The Grey Fox darted from shadow to shadow, chameleon garb a form fitting skin suit and hiding her body heat from any nearby sensors. The place seemed so different during the night without the crush of people, it seemed larger and more open. The quiet was peaceful she found, not to mention her ally as two sets of foot falls reached her ears. Quickly she hid in amongst a display of long extinct species of large cat, the holographic underbrush moving like it was caught in a lazy breeze. She watched as two of the museum's own security passed by from behind the safety of a large stuffed Bengal tiger, not moving until she was satisfied with the silence settled in once again.

She was getting close to the threshold of the prize when something again made her stop, something just felt... wrong. She had expected a lot more in the way of patrols and such, but all things considered it had seemed all but abandoned the closer the Grey Fox had gotten. Hidden away she was as still as the statues and displayed ancient armour around her for something, anything, that seemed out of place in the quiet surrounds. For over a full minute the thief just looked and listened intently to the dark, shadowed world around her.

Sheamus, who was several miles away on the Upper East Side, put down the hot mocha he had drinking as he watched her progress come to a sudden halt and just seem to stare around the room. With their target so close it didn't make sense for her to stop now. Leaning forward in his chair he was about to ask what the hold up was when a roaming cross-hair on the HUD locked onto a solitary shoe poking out from behind a display of sixteenth century Samurai armour. Cautiously breaking away from her current hiding spot like liquid shadow, the thief snaked across from cover to cover until reaching the object of curiosity. Body tense as a coil, the Fox was ready to strike if she had to but has she got nearer soon realised there was no need; the body the shoe was attached to cool to the touch, the guard was dead. Suppressing the primal urge to recoil she quickly patted him down and found nothing. Rolling him over her first instinct won out and she took a quick step back; a fatal wound had torn open his throat.

"What in the bloody hell..." Sheamus muttered as he looked into the face of the dead man, his face frozen in mild surprise at his death. Again the small cross-hair locked onto another anomaly, though it wasn't really necessary as the Fox, having seen it, crouched down to look closer. "What's that lodged in his neck?"

With a grimace she pulled it out, the body not giving it up without a sickening wet squelching noise as the finely serrated metal ripped through muscle on its removal. It was a nasty thing, whatever it was, the three blackened claws it had been fashioned into glimmering wetly in the poor light. "I don't think we're the only ones after this thing." She whispered, voice barely audible even to him.

"Get the statue and get the hell out of there. _Now_."

She didn't have to be told twice, what was supposed to be a burglary had now escalated to a murder scene. Darting past the grand archway which led into the domed display room of the Sapphire Dragon the floor erupted into shifting lasers in the visor's vision; giving her no time think, only to act as the Fox weaved and twisted with finely honed agility and grace in a delicate dance of dodge before reaching the smallest of safe zones around the statuette's pedestal. Normally she would've taken her time with claiming her prized as to not set off any security systems, but the scene of mere moments a go had left her somewhat shaken and distracted. The priority had shifted from getting the pay day to just getting the hell out.

As the carved gem lifted off its white velvet draped stand an alarm wailed through the silence like a banshee, Grey Fox cursing herself for looking over such a simple security measure as the pressure pad, though she could have _sworn_ she had dealt with it. Unable to do anything about it now she stuffed the coiled beast into the small pack and swung it over a shoulder as she took off running.

"Shit." Sheamus swore as one of his feet pushed against the floor, sending the chair gliding over to a nearby terminal. Fingers danced over a touch pad bringing an automated program to life then quickly glided back to his original post, "The bike is on its way, head up to the roof ASAP."

* * *

Zack smirked coldly to himself as he and his team had watched the Fox's adventure flickering on and off the screen since she had gotten into the building. The cameras had had a hard time tracking the elusive burglar, not only because of whatever it was she was wearing, but something was interfering with the feed. An electronic device she had on her person if he had to guess. He had been banking on the thief's appearance almost as much as John had, though for entirely different reasons. As guards from all over the building started rushing for the scene he bought a finger to rest right behind his left ear, "The package is heading for the roof, make sure it gets there for collection."

_'Understood.'_

With his orders acknowledged he headed out of the command room and headed for the nearest elevator, hitting the express button for the top floor. He knew it would take her a few minutes to get up here, being forced to take the stairs to avoid the security having all the others covered. When he opened the door that led outside several people clad head to toe in black saluted him, "Get ready. Our guest should be arriving any moment."


	5. Chapter 5

_I've been having a ball Google Mapping my way around New York lately as I attempt to weave a little authenticity to this story. If I mess it up for any New Yorkers reading this I apologise, there's only so much one can do with satellite images and street view. Any possible corrections for future reference would be greatly appreciated!_

* * *

The Fox sprinted down a dark hallway, the incessant ringing of the alarm screaming throughout the entire building. It would only take minutes for cops from the nearest precinct to arrive and swell the numbers of security already on the premises. The nearest stairwell was just around the next corner, but before she could reach it several men burst onto the scene and drew their weapons, blocking her way.

"Freeze!"

Instead of stopping the thief moved even faster and with a deft flick of a wrist the area was suddenly full of choking smoke. Eyes watered and noses burned as the gas coiled around them all, their coughing fits only adding to the cacophony of noise. One guard fighting vainly through the effects feebly grabbed only the masked criminal's arm, only to have his world spin violently as he was thrown over her hip and onto the floor before bringing a boot down on the man's solar plexus in a successful attempt to drive the air from his lungs. Eddie had taught his student not only to steal, but how to neutralise anyone if she was so forced to. It was something she had never thought she would need while on the job, but tonight had proven otherwise as she swiftly stuck at nerve points and other manoeuvres. After managing to either slip through or fight her way past a couple more groups the Fox made it to the roof, only to come face to face with Ryder and his group.

"We've been waiting for you, Grey Fox." Zack stated while his men appeared from their places around the roof, effectively surrounding her. "I thank you for relieving the museum of the dragon. Now be a doll and hand it over, maybe I'll even let you go."

Adrenaline threatened to overwhelm the thief, the unpleasant situation she now found herself in was something that hadn't happened for many years; not since Eddie had caught her after she had pick-pocketed his credit chit that fateful evening. Fighting off the uprising panic she tried to slowly back up against the door she had just come through, a small timer rapidly counting down the arrival of the bike and with it her escape.

"Tisk, tisk, sweetheart," Ryder said and pulled his gun as he realised what she was doing, causing the thief to freeze. "We've only just met, don't make me put such a pretty thing as yourself down. I'm trying to be a nice guy here."

The cold glitter in his eyes deceived any sort of sincerity in his words, it was a look a predator gives its cornered prey when it was convinced there was no way out. No matter what she decided he was intent on killing her anyway, for the simple fact being she was a loose end. The circle around the Fox began to tighten and she spun wildly in a desperate attempt to find a way out, only to see weapons levelled at her every turn.

_'Heads up!'_

A whining scream of a familiar engine broke the spell of intimidation and distracting Zack's pack of lackeys for a split second, but it was enough. Lashing out at the nearest man closest to the edge of the building the thief smacked the laser rifle's barrel away from her and at another of the black clad soldier types as it went off, hitting it's target square in the chest. One hand closed around the weapon and pulled it up while the other closed around his wrist and twisted sharply while hauling him in front of her like a shield as another shot was fired. Shoving the body forward the Fox took the few short steps before leaping off the ledge without hesitation under a hail of gunfire as the speed cycle flew by and landed neatly on the seat.

With a snarl Zack barked hurried orders for his remaining four Stalkers to tail the thief. Once they had found just where the Fox planned to lay low they were to call him with the location. He was getting that damn glorified rock tonight, one way or another, and with it he could finally be free of this role of an Interpol agent his taskmasters had him playing.

* * *

John walked out of Santino's with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his overcoat and head downcast. He thought he had made a real connection with Carmen and had been looking forward to this dinner all week, only to be let down at the last possible moment. Family emergency or not, he couldn't help the feeling of disappointment that chased him, though the jaded cop inside him somehow wasn't surprised. Since when did a woman like that even look at a shmuck like him, let alone give him the time of day? He must've been crazy to even remotely think this might have gone somewhere.

Heavy clouds that had been threatening the city for the entire day finally opened up, soaking him thoroughly as he sprinted to his car and quickly got inside. Great, now he was cold and wet to, what a perfect way to round out a disappointing evening. Awkwardly shrugging free of his coat then throwing it onto the back seat John entered the ignition code to get the car's climate system started, a blast of comforting warm air washing over his goose-fleshed skin. With a sigh he leaned back into the seat for a moment and closed his eyes as the heater did its thing, the only other sound that of the rain beating and endless tattoo on the car roof. When he was done moping he turned on the engine and checked the the flow of traffic to made sure it was safe to pull out of his parking space, heading in the direction of the hotel he was staying at.

He was only half paying attention to the police scanner as he drove up Park Avenue when the call came in, something big was going down at the museum. A cold knot began to form in the pit of his stomach as he pushed a button on the console screen, sirens and lights flashing into existence as he jetted off the road and into an empty sky-lane reserved for emergency services. Was it a mere coincidence that the Fox had finally struck on the exact night his date hadn't shown up? He was sceptical, John wasn't a man that believed in coincidence. But the only other explanation that was left for him... He shook his head, now was not the time or place to pursue that line of thought.

As he approached the intersection that crossed with East 79th Street a speed cycle blew through the set of traffic lights at an insane speed while dodging and weaving through started drivers; a car and two more cycles were giving chase and slowly closing the gap as they raced along, all of them taking a sharp turn down Lexington Avenue. Without hesitation John sped after them, the leading speedster a very distinctive blue, he had no doubt it was the very same that it belonged to the very same person who had burgled Mister Layfield's residence weeks a go. As to who the men chasing his thief were he had no idea, but if anyone was going to catch the Fox it was going to be him, Cena had to much at stake for it to be otherwise.

He found himself going back almost exactly the way he had just come before veering west along 57th Street and then down 6th Avenue. The chase led down so many twists and turns towards the southern end of Manhattan island that if it hadn't been for the GPS he would've been totally lost by now. Whoever the Fox's pursuers were they stuck like glue in their tenacious pursuit, and as a result the thief went to increasingly dangerous and reckless stunts to shake all of them.

They all tore along East 23rd Street at breakneck speed towards FDR Drive, the bank of the East River fast approaching. Grey Fox knew she needed to do something dramatic in the next couple of minutes to shake them; the upcoming intersection was busy, even at this time of night, and the rain had only made navigation even more difficult. As the distance to the crossroads got smaller and smaller, two drone delivery trucks travelling in opposite directions presented a potential opening. Pushing the engine to full throttle the speed cycle blasted through the closing gap with the two others barely managing to squeeze through, the car braking to spin wildly out of control and collided with the northward headed drone in a spectacular, explosive display. John barely pulled up in time to avoid hitting the second truck, radioing the collision in after quickly levelling out and continuing on after the three bikes.

Now over the free open space above the East River with nothing to run into, the two remaining Stalkers were in for a surprise. Jaw clenched in grim determination, the Fox pressed herself against the powerful machine as much as she could, then flicked open a discrete plastic cover that was next to the right grip of the handlebars with her thumb, revealing a small red button.

Through his feed Sheamus had been privy to the entire chase, heart feeling like it was trying to hammer its way out of his chest at each wild turn and near miss of other motorists. When he saw the what she had planned now he could only hope it didn't kill her in the process. _'You've got to be kidding me...'_

The Fox yelled to be heard over the rushing gale that sounded like she was in a wind tunnel over the comlink, "If you've got a better idea, I'd _really_ love to hear it!"

They both knew there wasn't one, so taking a deep breath the Fox steeled herself and hit the button. Almost instantly several wide metallic safety clamps snapped around the thief's waist, wrists and legs as with a deafening boom the speed cycle shot forward like a bullet as the Sonic Drive kicked in. The distance across the water's surface blurred by in seconds, shooting over Transmitter Park and down Greenpoint Avenue. It's systems stretched to and beyond it's limits the machine began to automatically shut down, killing its speed and becoming unruly to control as McGuinness Boulevard approached at an alarming pace. Another delivery drone was sedately making its way along in the opposite direction before automatically sounding the horn when its sensors picked up the erratic speedster.

If the Fox had been the religious type she might have started preying at that point, the craziest idea of the night yet popped into her head to get out of the current predicament. Released from the fixtures that had held her safe during the insane speed boost the thief now crouched precariously on the seat as the overworked stabilisers began to fail. There was only one shot at what she was going to do and if she missed... well, it wasn't like she would live to regret the decision; the authorities would be scraping whatever was left off the road with a spatula.

The moment the truck began passing the bike she leapt with outstretched hands closing around the ladder rungs that ran up the side, the momentum of it wrenching painfully on her arms to the point where she almost let go. Without it's rider to control it the overpowered speed cycle quickly lost altitude and crashed into the road, erupting into an explosion of twisted metal and fire as the fuel cells ruptured. The result threw the drone off course, fish tailing wildly from side to side as the AI attempted to correct itself. With her arms having been jarred to the point of almost dislocating the first time, Grey Fox couldn't find the strength to hold onto the wildly flailing transport and was thrown off, dropping out of the air to bounce off a parked car and hitting the pavement hard.

Sheamus felt his stomach drop as the screen feeding him the first person view suddenly went offline in a flash of static and white noise, taking with it all the increasingly erratic life-signs it had been broadcasting. His nondescript vehicle raced it's way through Greenpoint, fighting the sickening feeling of unknowing and hoped he would find her alive...


	6. Chapter 6

Pain.

It was the first thing the Fox registered as unfocused eyes stared up blankly into the rain, the nearby buildings were bathed in an orange glow as the wreckage of twisted metal that had been her speed cycle continued to burn, thick smoke billowing into the sky. It was was lodged uncomfortably near the small of her back caused by the heavy duty pack that, hopefully, had protected the prize through all the unfolding insanity of tonight's events. It was a sharp throbbing, firmly wedged into the Oblique muscles on her left side that only flared even more when her delicate gloved fingers lightly prodded at it and came away covered in a slick spill of her own blood. Everything hurt and all she wanted to do close her eyes and sleep, but the primal part of the human brain all but screamed at her that she was still in danger, urging the thief to get away from the confusing scene immediately.

Simply getting onto her hands and knees made Grey Fox want to vomit as a wave of pain and nausea crashed against her battered and bruised form as her equilibrium was sent spinning. It took her a moment to figure out why it looked as if she was staring through a badly cracked window as she clawed her way to a vertical based with the help of a nearby tree, seemingly oblivious to the large shard of metal embedded in its old, gnarled trunk. Pawing at the visor in an attempt to get it off the Fox stumbled down the footpath, her unbalanced motion giving her the look of a drunk trying to navigate a way home to unobservant bystanders, who were peeking through windows or coming out of their homes to see what had caused the calamitous commotion in the dead of night.

Breathing felt like a laborious chore as she made her way down the block and all but shuffled down Leonard Street, deducing that one or more of her ribs had been bruised or broken in the fall. Something else felt wrong, like it was the middle of a humid summer day and there was no respite from the glaring heat of the sun. The world slipped in and out of focus, motion making it lurch wildly as hearing things sounded muffled or far away, forcing her to stop at least once and give in to the sick feeling that was so insistent. Emptying what little content her stomach had in the gutter only fuelled the pain in her chest even more before the dry wrenching eventually subsided. Under a light polluted sky the spiralling cross tipped steeple of the abandoned Saint Anthony's church imposed itself above all its surrounding neighbours, drawing the thief's scattered attention. Leaning heavily against the ancient and partially crumbling brickwork she stumbled down a side alley before finally collapsing by the nearest set of steps leading up to one of the old church's heavy set of doors that faced Manhattan Avenue.

It was here that Sheamus eventually found his partner, huddled in the corner like a homeless drifter. Her head lolled from side to side in some vague recognition at his voice but didn't seem to be able to do much more than that. Gently he held her head between his hands to find two distinctly different coloured eyes staring vacantly back at him. After slipping the pack off her back and slinging it over his shoulder, Sheamus managed to pick the woman up that would cause the least amount of aggravation to what injuries the accident had caused. Whatever happened must've been even more serious than he had thought; despite the colder weather and whatever tech-wizardry the suit contained he could feel her body heat being thrown off in waves, like the Fox was now running a fever on top of everything else. Once they were both safely inside the car he took off as fast as he could and opened a untraceable link to an old friend.

* * *

Cena's heart seemed to plummet into the depth of his stomach when he arrived on the scene at the corner of Greenpoint and McGuinness. There was a swarm of local cops, EMTs and the fire brigade who were traipsing around doing their jobs as he approached a huddle of people that a few uniforms were preventing from getting any closer until the debris had been cleared up. Flashing them his credentials they allowed him to pass, pointing out he detective in charge when he asked them. He was an older man, his hairline of tight, short greying curls was slowly retreating toward the back of his scalp, his dark brown eyes continually roamed over the the scene of the incident while talking with a forensic examiner.

"Detective Simmons," John began as he extended his hand, "I'm Commander Jo-."

"I know who you are," Ron 'Farooq' Simmons interrupted, turning from the examiner to face him, "And I know who you've been chasing tonight." He didn't bother shaking the younger man's hand due to his grouchy disposition of having been called out of the warmth of his sanctum sanctorum and into the cold rain of a late autumn New York night. Picking up a clear evidence bag he passed it over tot he Interpol agent, "We found this during a preliminary sweep of the area, near the corner of Leonard Street. Some pretty high tech stuff on the inside of it, not to mention more durable than it looks. Considering how hard your thief must've landed there's no way they got out of this mess unscathed."

John studied the reflective blue half mask in his hands before turning it over and held the visor up in the light of a nearby streetlight, the large spider-webbed cracks fracturing the view of the world that was filtered through them. Something dark in the corner of the damage caught his eye, a small splattering where it had taken the initial impact. Fishing a small but powerful pen light from his pocket he looked at hit more closely, small shards of the hardened plastic had broken away, a darkened red speckled around the missing pieces.

Blood.

Two things crossed his mind; firstly, the Grey Fox was definitely injured but to what extent was still a mystery, though he doubted it was simply superficial cuts and bruises. Second, it meant that for the first time he actually had a DNA sample of the world's most elusive thief. Perhaps there was something on record that could be used to unveil the Fox's mysterious identity. "Did you manage to find anything else?"

"Whatever happened, your suspect was bleeding," Simmons replied, "Though with this rain most of it had washed away by the time we got here. However, there had been certain places along the trail where it seemed heavier than others. We're guessing that's where the Fox had stopped along the way; to do what we don't know, attempting to stem the blood flow most likely, and also to lose whatever dinner was tonight at one stage."

"I sense a 'but' coming..."

The detective merely nodded, "The trail goes cold at the old church on Manhattan Avenue."

"Is there any security cams in any of those areas?"

"Can't say for certain, but it does sit right on top of a T intersection. You might be lucky with traffic cams."

John seemed to digest all the information he had gotten so far. With a little bit of reluctance he handed the visor back to the expectant officer, "I'll have one of mine come by the station ASAP to help with whatever forensic findings you get."

Ron refrained from the sardonic scoff he wanted to make. He had done this dance a few times with different law enforcement agencies -mainly the FBI, and even the CIA once- but he had been around long enough times to know that outside 'help' was a polite way of saying 'we'll take it from here'. In reality it was fine by him, he was to old for this shit of chasing after damn international criminals and would prefer if they stayed out of his district in future. When he turned his attention back to man from Interpol he found himself standing alone, Cena already on a mission to see if the traffic cams could give him anything. Putting the mask back with whatever other evidence they had managed to scrape together he walked over to where the fire crew and a few uniforms were overseeing what was left of the speed cycle being loaded on a drone to be taken back to the CSU lab. He had an appreciation for well made autos, and to see the fate of this one made him shake his head.

"Damn."

* * *

Hell's Kitchen had always been a rough neighbourhood, Sheamus mused that it must've had something to do with the name as he pulled up in front of a slightly run down house and killed the engine. Leaning over he undid the seatbelt that was the only thing holding the Fox into the seat, during the journey here she had passed out. There was no doubt about it, aside from the physical injuries something was causing his partner to burn up with a serous fever; skin had become clammy with sweat, plastering dishevelled hair across the sickly pale skin of her face. He hadn't dared to remove the object she had pulled out the dead guard that was now lodged firmly in her own side, not knowing what further damage he might have caused if he had done so. But now he began to wonder if it had been the wisest choice of action.

The front door of the house opened bringing him back to the present, now was not the time to dwell on what he should or shouldn't have done. Grabbing the pack then swiftly getting out of the car he slid over the hood to open the passenger side and gathered the Fox in his arms once again, kicking the door shut and headed up the steps. "Thanks for doing this, Regal. I owe you one."

The Englishman simply waved off the young Irishman's words and hurriedly ushered him inside, "Down the hall to the back room."

William Regal was once a prominent and gifted doctor who had managed to hide a rather significant skeleton in his closet for quite some time in his younger years. After having studied at Cambridge University his prodigy-like gift had flung him into the highest echelons of the medical community and had no shortage of where he could pick and choose to work. It had all come crashing down on him eventually; the pressure of his high stress job eventually had gotten the better of his younger self and had turned to the very drugs he prescribed to patients to help him get through the day. Once alcohol was added to the mix it eventually was like the writing on the proverbial wall.

One night while he was on call a fire had broken out in a residential block and the worst cases were sent to his ER. High on stimulants and more than a little drunk his neglect and misdiagnoses had caused the deaths of four people. As a result he lost everything he owned in settlements to avoid the maximum sentence, served almost ten years in prison and had his medical license stripped. When he had finally gotten released early for good behaviour he found himself destitute, and with nothing else to turn to but his medical background his only real option was working under the table for New York's criminal element smart enough to find him. While working with such shady characters had it's drawbacks it wasn't all bad. Through the connections he had made his secret operating room he had was stocked with the latest in medical equipment and supplies.

As he looked down at the unconscious woman on his table he knew he was going to need everything he had; she didn't look good. "Tell me what happened." He said in a calm professional tone as he picked up an instrument to begin cutting away at the peculiar material the Irishman's companion was wearing.

Sheamus began to pace back and forth on the sterile white floor, "The whole night turned into one giant cluster fuck is what happened!"

"Something a bit more specific would be appreciated." He bought the sharp blade down on the grey cloth and began to drag the blade across it, frowning when it almost immediately went from its soft, pliable form to something harder. Not anywhere near as durable as body armour but it had been enough to prevent him from delicately cutting it away. "Just what, pray tell, is she wearing?"

The redhead cursed, in all the excitement he had almost forgotten about that damn weird material. "It's hard to explain." Standing next to the table he picked up one of her wrists, around it was a thin metal band. Activating some sort of pressure pad he repeated the action around the other wrist, then again on the flexible belt that sat snugly around her hips.

"Astonishing." Regal couldn't help but be impressed as the chameleon suit seemingly began to melt; he had never seen technology like that before, especially in clothing apparel. When it had vanished all that the Fox was left in was a simple black cotton bra and briefs.

"Have you watched the news at all in the past hour or so?" Regal simply nodded his reply as he picked a a small device to scan his patient that would assess the internal injuries he would likely have to deal with. The whole side show at the museum had been on every live news feed as things unfolded. Or at least as fast as they could keep up with the events at any rate."That's what happened."

"I see." The device in his hand pinged when it was done, a clucking sound emerging from his throat as he read the read out.

While her complexion had always been rather fair, the sickly pallor it had sunk into was just wrong. Sheamus couldn't help but notice that she was now paler than even he was, and made the developing bruising stand out all the more. "Just what in the hell is wrong with her?"

Regal didn't answer right away, crossing the room and wheeling a small machine that looked a little like a microwave over to the table. Picked up a clamp and turned his attention to whatever it was that had embedded itself into the defined muscles of her side. He had a hunch that it was the root of the worst problem. "Hold her down."

"You're not gonna give her a shot of somethin' first?"

"Not yet. It would be unwise."

Sheamus knew better than to badger Regal with a barrage of questions, if he didn't trust the man he wouldn't have bought the Fox here in the first place. But that said it didn't mean he had to like the almost cryptic way in which the doctor went about things.

"I apologise, my dear," William said to his semi-conscious patient, "But this is going to hurt."

When the clamp had a firm grasp on the large, serrated throwing star he pulled firmly, the small teeth along the blades not giving up the flesh they were in easily. Almost immediately the Fox started to thrash, muscles cording with the effort to get the body to escape from this new infliction of pain. Sheamus had to exert more strength that he first thought to hold her in place as slow seconds ticked by, he had never heard the thief make such vulnerable sounding cries before. He decidedly didn't like them either, adding it to the long list of things he didn't like about tonight.

When Regal had finally dislodged the offending metal he quickly placed it into the microwave looking machine and closed the door, then picked up something that looked like a steel pen. "Almost done, just hang in there a little longer." His voice was quiet and soothing as he held the gaze of pain fuelled wild eyes, tenderly brushing away the sweat damp hair from the woman's face in an attempt get her to solely focus on him and not what he was about to do.

Again the thrashing started as the medical laser cauterised the hole shut, leaving nothing but a fine, red line behind in its wake. Putting the pen back down he finished up buy applying a strange pink gel over it then crossed the room to where a large cylinder had been installed. Inputting a few commands on the console he returned to the head of the table just as the 'microwave' chimed. Taking the information it gave him he pushed the hovering operating table over to the tube and, with Sheamus' help, loaded his patient inside.

Sheamus watched as William finished his preparations and closed the lid, the tube sealing itself with a hiss. Rapidly the tube filled with a liquid of some description but what it was comprised of the Irishman couldn't even begin to guess. With and exasperated and rather exhausted sounding sigh he turned to the disgraced surgeon. "Will you _please_ tell me what the bloody hell is wrong now?"

"It's simply really," William answered as he continued to observe the tube, "Your friend has been poisoned."


	7. Chapter 7

"Tea?"

Sheamus was snapped out of his thoughts as Regal held out an antique cup and saucer, a thin trail of steam wafting from the dark amber surface. What he really wanted was a stiff drink or two, but with William's history he knew that there wasn't even a drop of alcohol in the house. He took a sip, realising it hadn't sweetened before adding some sugar to it. When he was satisfied he looked over at the Englishman, who was ever the picture of cool professional poise, rarely ruffled by any situation that came knocking at his door. "So... is she going to be alright?"

"The odds seem favourable, thanks in no small part to you arriving so quickly," Regal replied before taking up his own cup from the small hovering tea tray. "The compound was something similar to cyanide, though not quite. There's only one reason why someone would choose to make a synthetic like that." He paused for a moment, pondering on the object he pulled out of his patient. Its design was vaguely familiar, but the reason why remained a mystery; all he knew was that it certainly didn't bode well. "Where did it come from?"

"The neck of a dead man."

"And how did it wind up in your friend's side?"

"An accident over in Greenpoint."

William didn't say anything as he stirred a silver spoon through his black tea while he thought it over. The toxin was something he was sure he had come across only once before, a very long time a go, though the way it had gotten into it's victim had been a different method entirely. He wished he could have access to his old case files so he could do some research on the specifics, but when he had been stripped of his license all those years a go so to had all the privileges that came with it.

Peering over the rim of the fine china he looked across at the young Irishman, studying him. He knew what Sheamus' profession was and by proxy what line of work his companion seemed to have a knack for even before it was blasted all over the news, but any history prior to that was akin to a blank slate; no-one knew just where, what or who the man from Dublin had been before arriving in New York. The obvious concern and worry was present, there was no doubt about that, but there was something else, something almost like guilt. He was hiding something and Regal was curious to know what it might be. If he was going to probe for answers however, he had a distinct feeling he had to be careful just how he went about it. First thing was first though, "News channel, local areas of Manhattan and Long Island."

Nearby a hologram sprung to life on the far side of the small lounge room. A news caster sat behind a desk at about a third of real size and was reporting on the conclusion of the chase ending in a spectacular, fiery crash with a delivery drone. The rider of the speed cycle was suspected to be dead, though no remains of a body had been found as of yet. Cutting away to the scene the figure of a tired detective Simmons was the focus of attention and looked decidedly annoyed by the constant badgering. "_I'll tell you what I've told everyone else,_" He all but snapped at the on scene reporter, "_An official statement will be released only after all the evidence has been studied and not a second before_."

"_But detective, isn't it true that Interpol will be taking direct control over the investigation? Or is there to be a joint inquiry?_" The reporter insisted, "_If information is accurate, then it was none other than the Grey Fox who had caused this incident_."

"_No. Comment_." Ron growled before turning to a uniform, "_Get these hacks out of __**my**__ crime scene_."

Sheamus couldn't sit and watch the circus unfold any more; he picked up the Fox's pack and abruptly stood up, leaving the living room and heading down the hallway without a word. Regal merely sat back in his chair and continued sipping at his hot tea; that was definitely the gait of a man carrying a heavy burden, weighted down by far more than just the fiasco of tonight.

The Irishman stood in front of the recuperation cell, vacantly staring at the form of his partner and friend suspended within the viscous mire of the medicinal gel, looking like some sort of science experiment among the various tubes running to the top and leading off to god knew where. The skin around her shoulder and ribs was no longer a mass of angry bruising welts, the bones and muscle underneath rapidly mending as the medical nanobots mended the damaged pieces. Even though the microscopic machines were fixing in a fraction of the time that what would normally take weeks, if not months to heal, he still couldn't think that it wasn't fast enough. Then their was the toxin that was slowly being filtered out of her system, fighting its eviction every step of the way from the combined forces of her battered immune system and the concoction William's machine was administering.

At that thought he sighed, running a hand through his short spiked hair; he was hoping never to see it again. He should've said something, told her to leave that bloody shuriken alone... anything. Crossing the room he sat down on the hovering surgical table and looked into the thing that Regal had put the weapon in. It had been years since he had seen one and knew what its appearance here tonight meant. While they may have just sent the benchmark for burglary, these new players that had entered the game were ruthless and would stop at nothing until they had what the wanted. Looking at the satchel he debated with himself for a moment before opening it up and pulling out the prize within.

The bright lights overhead flashed over the dragon's surface, blue hues danced across his arms and chest with every movement he made. He wasn't naive, he knew why certain people would risk trying to kill someone for this thing, but usually going through such delicate and covert means wasn't the general MO for those kinds of folks. This particular crowd though, they were after more than just money, they were about power. Real power, not this local king of the hill bullshit the street gangs and mob families were always warring over. This was the kind that could start wars, make or break nations, even dictate the rise and fall of world leaders.

So what in the hell was so special about this damn statue?

* * *

John stood under the shelter of the dilapidated church as the rain continued to pour down, trying to get through to the traffic cop on the other end of the line exactly what he needed without blowing up on them. The CSI teams had been quick but efficient in there search around the old building, taking what was even of the most minute probably importance before whisking it off to the lab. With their job done they had disappeared, leaving the Commander to stand in the downpour all by himself. Apparently there were indeed a set of cameras set into the lights but they hadn't been functioning properly at the time, like there was some sort of interference intentionally glitching them out. Other than that there had been no signs of malfunction at all.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration; of course something like that would happen, why the fuck wouldn't it? Shaking his head John attempted to fight off the negatives, he was close, _so close_, he just had to think of a way around this problem. Any footage the street-cam this intersection had picked up was beyond recognition, pixelating the normally high definition picture to a point where it looked like someone had tried to film it with the equivalent of a potato. You could make out figures that were clearly people, but not much else. Staring down the road both ways he noticed another set of traffic lights at the next intersection and was struck by an idea. "Officer...?"

_"Status_."

"Right, Officer Stratus," he repeated. Quickly he sprinted over to his car and climbed inside and bought up a map of the immediate area on the car's console. "Can you see if you can bring up any images for the cams on the next two sets of lights? The first being Greenpoint and Manhattan Avenues, then Manhattan Avenue and Calyer Street."

She went silent for a moment as she worked on his request, the ambient sounds in the background filtering through the connection. "_Sending the surveillance now. Will there be anything else you require_?"

"Possibly... Give me a second." He watched as a black car blew through a red light as it came down Manhattan Avenue approaching the church. Reversing the footage he paused it just as the car went through the intersection. Singling out the front bumper he enlarged it with a motion of his hand, taking note of the license plate. "Got a plate number for you to run. Charlie, seven, zero, two, five, five, three, tango."

Another brief silence passed before the traffic cop answered him. "_It seems the plates must be fake, Commander, they're not on file._"

Leaning back into the seat he wondered what else to do, there had to be a trail here he could follow. "Stratus, see if the interference happens within a similar time frame at the Manhattan and Calyer lights." He couldn't help the small triumphant smile on his face when she told him that interference was indeed present barely a minute or two after the the intersection on Milton Street. "See if you can establish a pattern of other traffic cams freaking out, I think we maybe able to find the source if we can follow it to its destination."

"_Bear with me, Sir, this may take a couple of minutes_." Idly John's fingers drummed against the wheel as he waited in anticipation, the hunt wasn't over yet. "_I've found it, Commander. The first one is straight ahead at Manhattan and Merserole._"

His small victory grin returning, John started up the engine and set off down the road. By the end of the night he swore to have the Grey Fox in his custody.

* * *

Zack had been far from happy with the failure of his men; in fact he had been so furious he had ordered the two remaining survivors who had lost the Fox over the East River when they had reported back to be shot. All their time, money and planning had been seemingly engulfed in a fiery conclusion; reporting to his superiors was going to be... unpleasant. He had been thumbing the untraceable comlink for a good hour now, apprehensive and disgusted of having to report his first ever failure to them. Just as he was about to go through with it his own personal link activated, the caller ID informing him that it was Cena. Repressing the urge to growl he answered, "Ryder here."

"_Zack!_" John replied, "_Get your ass in gear, the Fox isn't dead!_"

"What?!" He had a hard time believing what he had just heard, "But the reports... how in the hell could anyone survive a crash like that?"

"_No idea, but it doesn't matter right now._" He could hear the commander swear as he weaved through the traffic as he approached the end of Roebling Street that would take him onto the Williamsburg Bridge. "_I did some digging and managed to find a trail. I suspect whatever fucked up tonight was the last thing the Fox had expected._"

"You know where she is?"

"_She? The Fox is a woman?_" He didn't know why, but for some reason it surprised him.

"From what witness accounts say, yeah."

"_OK, well get you ass to Hell's Kitchen, I'll give you the address._"

Quickly he scribbled down the info in a datapad, "Got it."

"_Good, I'll fill you in on the details along the way._"

As he headed towards the door a malevolent smirk spread once again over Zack's face, Cena had just unwittingly handed him salvation. It was unfortunate that the great Commander John Cena would die in the line of duty at the hands of the Grey Fox tonight. While he hadn't been in time to recover the Sapphire Dragon, Lieutenant Zack Ryder would be the man who had bought his murderer to justice...


End file.
